


this photograph is proof

by lilithenaltum



Series: Undertow: An IronPrincess Story [3]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Masturbation, Memories, Nude Photos, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 05:19:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16675246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithenaltum/pseuds/lilithenaltum
Summary: It's been three years since they took those pictures, and on her birthday, he takes them out to reminisce.Undertow 'verse.





	this photograph is proof

**Author's Note:**

> This is an "Undertow" 'verse little cut scene set between some future chapters; not many spoilers, but proceed with caution if you want to be completely out of the loop for chapters 5 and 6 of the story.

_November, 2022_

.

.

.

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It’s been three years and he still hasn’t deleted the damn pictures.

 

It’s been three years and in between so much has happened and changed that he shouldn’t have even given a thought to them, but nope. He still reminisces about them, still thinks back on the day they were snapped and the mischief in her dark eyes when he’d taken them.

 

Especially his favorite one, the one of her on her knees in the bed, his dick under her chin and his cum on her cheek. He shudders when her remembers her giggle after she’d let his cock slip from her mouth with a slick plop, a breathless sort of thing that made his whole body ache to fuck her and fuck her right then.

 

But in the three years since that night (and tonight, it’s been three exactly), he’d forgotten a few of the finer details. So when he stumbles down the dark stairs of the farmhouse and into the basement that will be his new lab, machinery still strewn here and yonder and the walls bare, he heads for the box of things he’d brought home with him from Wakanda after the exile.

 

In between bright blankets and old pants and a string of beads that had once wrapped around her waist was an old cell phone. And on that phone were the pictures.

 

The phone was still charged, if just enough that he could turn it on and scroll through the relics of his past. There were angry texts and notes about the machine they’d built and most recently, pictures of his baby girl when she was just a little thing, soft caramel skin and hazel eyes staring up into the camera as he snapped a photo. He had a memory of that moment too, sweet and hazy and a little bitter because he hadn’t seen his Thandiwe in the flesh since she was an infant and had missed two birthdays and he was probably going to miss the third and fourth and so on. He would always be bitter about that, but at least Shuri was kind enough to let him video chat her when he could. He had that, and that would be enough.

 

But tonight, he wasn’t in the mood to look through pictures of his daughter. No, he wanted to relive the pictures of her mother, mostly the sordid ones, though as he kept scrolling he came across a handful of her pregnant (bundled up in bed and asleep…he’d taken that one on the sly and cherished it and probably always would). There were some of them in the lab, pics of Bruce and Jane too. And one very sweet one, the two of them in bed, naked and sweaty and sated, laughing about something. He didn’t remember right then what they were laughing about, except that it’d been ridiculously funny because the picture was blurry from his shaking hands and Shuri had tears of mirth in her eyes.

 

That picture made his stomach hurt. _God_ , he wanted that back so bad.

 

But no sooner did his mood drop as he dwelled on that memory did his finger slip quickly past several more photos and landed right dab smack on the birthday pictures. He almost laughed, simply because the exposure of these had set into motion everything that had happened since. And though he could have been bitter about that too, he couldn’t. He really couldn’t.

 

Not when his pretty baby looked so good like that, naked except for those kitten ears and that little collar. Oh, and the tail too, attached to the plug he’d put in her pretty ass and instructed her not to touch until he told her to.

 

He could feel his heart beat speeding up already.

 

Tony grabbed the phone, and the charger too, just in case, and took his time up the stairs. He flipped from one picture to the other in anticipation, his skin tingling, his body heating. If he remembered correctly, there were fifteen in all, including the infamous post blowjob pic Bruce had found. Ones of her in the midst of that blowjob and ones with her fingers in her pussy, stroking herself to near climax until he’d batted her hand away and dipped his head down to finish the job with his mouth. There were a couple of those too, ones Shuri had taken with remarkably steady hands though he remembered her arching and gasping and then screaming his name when she came.

 

But there was one he’d all but forgotten about. A photo of him beneath her, eyes half open and mouth wide, his skin red as a cherry and his body taut with what he now remembered was pleasure. She’d been riding him, hard and fast and merciless, on her way to her ninth or tenth orgasm. He wasn’t sure about which one it was, except she was desperate to make him cum first for once. And he’d been trying so hard to hold on but couldn’t. He could still feel phantom stirrings of that pleasure, of the pressure at the base of his spine and how he’d gripped her hip so hard she’d bruised for days after. That orgasm had been mind blowing.

 

He wondered if he could recreate it.

 

Tony flopped into bed and set the phone to the side as he hurriedly shucked his pants down and slung them across the room. He didn’t want a stitch of clothing on, not even his socks, so he stripped until he wore nothing but flesh and the smattering of greying hair across his chest and down his tummy. He let his fingers drift into the wiry hairs around his dick and then up, trembling fingers ghosting over the already hardened organ until he couldn’t stop himself and he had to wrap them completely around, grip them tight, and start a slow stroke so good it made him groan.

 

Thank god Happy was in the city tonight. He didn’t want anybody to hear any of this.

 

He let the memories flood his mind in a way he hadn’t done in a long time, and he was almost startled at how easily they came to him. The scent of her skin, the taste of her sweat, how sweet her pussy was when he dragged his tongue from clit to opening. And the sounds she made too, huffs and pants and prissy little squeals that turned into erotic, almost animalistic groans and cries for more. She was so demanding, his pretty baby, his Kitten. She was a headache and a handful, but the bliss of being inside her was so worth it. What he wouldn’t do to have another taste, he thought, stroking himself faster and harder, his body moving off the bed as he imagined him fucking her again.

 

On top worked fine but something inside him wanted to imagine she were beneath him, legs spread high and wide and her arms tied up to his headboard. He flipped over onto his knees and pushed his hips into his hand, the other digging into the sheets beneath for purchase. He could almost see her spit slick lips, her chest heaving as she tried hard to move along with him.

 

_Please…harder, Daddy. Please._

 

She’d lean up and whimper his name into his ear and kiss him so hot he’d catch fire. And the bed would shake, the sheets would crumple, the air would thicken and heat with their lovemaking until the world stopped spinning and the only thing in the entire universe was he and her, her bright eyes staring into his as she fell to pieces and the tremor in his body when he followed.

 

The orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave and he gave a shout, a taste of her name on his tongue as he sank into the bed, spent and hollow and near to tears.

 

Something like regret welled up in his throat and he swallowed it back, his eyes opening to find the phone right beside him, screen side up. Somehow, in his half mad race to finish, he’d shifted the pictures. And this one made his chest ache so badly, that he didn’t bother stopping the tears that slipped from his eyes.

 

Dark skin, delicate features, a wide curious gaze. And the prettiest Wakandan sunset in the background, as his Queen, his pretty baby, sat on her veranda and turned to pull him closer so they could watch it together. It was Shuri unguarded and at her most beautiful and it tore him to pieces.

 

He’d never have a chance at that again. He didn’t even deserve it.

 

Tony groaned and wiped his face with one hand, crumpled the mussed sheets up into a ball with the other and slipped off the bed, naked and a little off center. He picked the phone back up once his pants settled back around his waist and his finger hovered over the screen. And he made up his mind.

 

He deleted every picture of Shuri, all of them except the one, the picture of her on the balcony. He let out a slow, pained breath and turned off that phone, and tried unsuccessfully to go to sleep.

 


End file.
